


mahpiohanzia

by postfixrevolution



Series: i would that my love is an ocean [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Implied spoilers, Light Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, fleet-footed and foolish!universe, minor character spoilers, published pre-game release so forgive any OOC, reckless behaviour but that's okay bc magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postfixrevolution/pseuds/postfixrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i><b>n.</b> - the disappointment of being unable to fly, unable to stretch out your arms and vault into the air, having finally shrugged off the ballast of your own weight and ignited the fuel tank of unfulfilled desires you’ve been storing up since before you were born.</i><br/> </p><p>[ alternatively: She sneaks up to the highest tower in the middle of the night, moonlight pouring down on her like liquid silver as she stands as close to the edge as she can and pretends that she can fly. ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	mahpiohanzia

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally made myself ship this, and then this fic happened. Set in the universe of my Leo/Kamui WIP, [fleet-footed and foolish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4745030/chapters/10845800), but you don't need to have read that to understand this.
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> _The first symptom of love in a young man is timidity; in a girl, boldness._
> 
> **\- Victor Hugo**

Elise greedily inhales the cool night air and leans the upper half of her body far over the ledge of the tower wall. She's so high up that trees look like bushes and the dandelions that scatter the grassy fields below feel more like faraway stars than the _actual_ stars do. Carefully, Elise climbs onto the wide ledge, standing with her arms outstretched and toes just barely poking out over the edge. She's not completely unsafe there; a balcony juts out just twenty feet below if she truly were to fall. A few broken bones might greet her there, but she wouldn't be worse off than that. Still, adrenaline still hums through her veins at the position. If she closes her eyes and concentrates on the soft breeze threading through her loose hair, it feels like she's flying. If she imagines the sharp plummet barely inches before her, she feels vertigo grab her by the voice box and seal her throat shut in equal parts terror and exhilaration. The princess opens her roseate eyes. The night sky is _endless_. 

She slowly sits down and pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging her arms around them and resting her head atop the small self-made cradle. Nothing makes her feel as safe and small as being alone in the air, and she wonders if she was a bird in a previous life. Or maybe a pegasus rider. Something born without wings, but managing to shape their life around wings nonetheless. 

Sometimes Elise wishes she could actually fly. Not just on a pegasus, but on her own. She can ride on waves of optimism and cheer, feeling like she is walking on air, but she's never felt like she was _soaring_. If there are clouds somewhere above her, she's never flown high enough to touch them. She wants to touch them. They probably feel like something indescribably, perfectly fulfilling. Maybe something between the cool silk of a new gown the week before a ball and the feeling of ice water down her throat on a blazing summer day. Something that fills her up and sends a pleasant tingling from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. 

Elise's eyes tiredly drift shut and she sighs. It isn't often that she sneaks out of her room so late at night, but it's becoming less and less strange as time goes by. Ever since the day Kamui revealed that she wasn't truly their sister, the youngest princess has heard a lot of strange sounds in the night — clandestine footsteps, thudding doors, creaking hinges. Insomnia must run in the family, she giggles to herself. And it must be contagious, since Kamui seems to not be immune either. The fact that she's not the only one waking up at odd hours makes her feel a little better about the occasional forays to her super secret hiding spot. The blonde hasn't even shared the knowledge of this spot with her youngest brother; that's how secret it is. Part of her wants to, but then she sees how close he and Kamui are these days, and there's an inexplicable tug in her stomach, whispering that, maybe, she shouldn't. Leo's got a big heart, even if he doesn't show it, and there's more in there than just Elise. Somehow, the realization makes her kind of sad. 

Camilla and Xander are already unreachable in their own rights, their age gap so significant that they feel more like surrogate parents, or maybe really close uncles and aunts, than older siblings. If Leo and Kamui become inseparable, that would mean that she would be alone. 

Elise shivers. 

It's chillier than she'd hoped for out here, especially when she is in just a cotton nightgown and socks. She contemplates heading down, back to her room to try and get some sleep, but even the notion of slumber sounds so far away and unreal. She could stay longer, maybe stare up at the stars and try to recall the names and shapes she learned in astronomy with her tutors. The only formation she really remembers is Marth's Belt, and that is because the three stars are always easy to find. The rest of the ancient Hero King's outline is always foggy to her; she always forgets whether he wields his legendary sword toward the left or the right. Elise turns her head to the side, staring up at the sky. 

"What was the name of your sword again, Mister Hero-King?" she postulates softly to herself. "Archen? Falcon? The one you saved the world with." 

"I believe you mean Falchion," a voice answers from behind her. Elise yelps in surprise, twirling around to try and find her mystery speaker. The quick motion sets her off balance, and she feels herself begin to teeter backwards toward the tower floor. A sharp gasp and heavy footsteps, and a warm embrace finds her before the cold stone does. Whoever's hands grip tightly at her shoulders, they feel like fire against her bare upper arms; the chill in the air is forgotten. 

"My deepest apologies, Your Highness; I had not the intention to startle," the clear voice intones. Elise turns around to see shining hazel eyes. A straw colored blond very different from Leo's or her own gold tones greets her, shining almost white in the silver moonlight. "It's just: you seemed such a harrowing figure, silhouetted by the light of a thousandfold omniscient stars, that I found my usually infallible resolve shaken by your most deepest musings. Be them as they may — your private thoughts — I found my very blood raging with this dire need to respond to this unearthly figure's pondering!" 

Elise stares at him. 

"Odin," she says, head tilted ever so slightly to the side. It is more a statement than a question. He stares back at her, remembers his hands still on her shoulders and pulls them quickly away. The air is cold. 

"Yes, Your Highness?" he responds, arms dutifully folded behind his back. Elise smooths down her dress, shifts herself to sit comfortably on the ledge. The dark mage is out of his usual uniform, wearing leggings and a strange looking tunic that is longer in the back than the front. He looks oddly normal, more like a village boy than the skilled dark mage and guard of her brother. The thought relaxes her. 

"Why are you up here?" 

He blinks at her. "Huh? Why am I up here?" he echoes ever-so eloquently, as if not expecting such a simple question. Elise watches him flounder around with words for a moment, unable to keep the minute smile from twitching up at her lips. "Oh. Uhm. Well." He clears his throat. "Sleep, as it is a cruel mistress, has made herself scarce to this tortured mind of mine, so my conscience beckoned me to wander, following the whims of my feet until they decided that the stars were where my peace would be most likely found," he regales grandly. Elise follows the sway of his hands as he gesticulates animatedly, only half processing his words. The man's voice is melodic, clear. While his words are like some swirling fog, disorienting and blurred, his voice is the water particles that make up that fog, transparent and clear. It floats pleasantly in her ears. "And thus I find myself here, blanketed by the wan silver light of the moon." 

"Mhm," the little girl responds absently. She doesn't say much else, half lulled by the cadence of his voice. When it suddenly stops, she opens her eyes to the realization that they had drifted shut at some point, and he is watching her curiously. 

"It seems sleep deems you worthy enough to beckon into her capricious arms," he notes, a small laugh behind his words. His hazel eyes are bright. "Let me not hinder you, Your Highness." He holds out a hand to Elise, offering to help her down. She shakes her head. 

"No, I'm not tired," she insists, blinking away the hazy bleariness behind her eyes. Odin doesn't look like he believes her, but makes no move to argue. "Sit down," she eventually says, patting the stone beside her. When he doesn't make a move to accept her offer, she rolls her eyes, reaching over to grab his hand and tug him forward. He stumbles with the grace of a startled child and Elise giggles, unable to completely align this Odin with the one that stands dutifully and stiffly at Leo's side whenever they are out. She moves to dangle her legs completely over the edge, and the man eyes her bemusedly for a moment before hesitantly doing the same. While she swings her feet, he sits still with his fingers curled against the wall's edge. It's a pleasant set up, and Elise revels in the warmth that radiates off her fellow body. 

"Did you say Falchion earlier?" she pipes up eventually, roseate eyes turned up toward him. Odin's eyes snap back from the sky to hers, and she acutely sees the spark that ignites behind them. It's entrancing. 

"Indeed I did!" he exclaims, a wide grin pulling up at his lips. The princess finds herself grinning too. "Falchion, the hallowed blade of the exalted bloodline, passed dutifully down from the hands of the Hero-King Marth himself! Its blade is known to never rust or dull, and it lends its power, even within the chosen bloodline, only to those it has deemed most worthy of its fearsome power." 

Elise smiles. "You sure know a lot about swords for a mage," she teases. "Are you sure you're not secretly a swords master behind all that magic?" Odin regards her with wide eyes for a second, and she snickers. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she acquiesces, nudging him playfully. "You're a wonderful mage." He physically relaxes beside her. 

"I will admit to a _slight_ fascination for the art of weaponry, but I shall not be spouting a word more on the subject," he tells her, and the exaggerated wink he adds afterward makes her giggle. 

"Alright, then tell me something else," she commands sweetly. "It doesn't have to be about you or Falchion. Just talk." 

"A mighty request indeed," he chuckles, to which she just shrugs. "How would her Highness like a story?" 

Elise hums contemplatively to herself for a moment. "Her Highness would like to be called Elise," she announces eventually. "And Elise would love a story." Odin blinks at her. 

"E-Elise?" he echoes, almost uncertainly. The word sounds fuller and warmer rolling off his tongue than anyone else's before him. Her name sounds like more than just the title bestowed upon her when Odin says it, like he knew and felt the word long before he had heard her say it. It's a strange, yet charged feeling, and the princess closes her eyes and lets the pleasant sound ring in the air for a moment. Her eyes flutter open to the sight of furrowed eyebrows and faraway hazel eyes as he experimentally rolls the name off his tongue again. 

"Yup," she confirms cheerily. "That would be me." 

His eyes dart over to her, and at her wide smile, his slack lips twitch up. Whatever heaviness was in his gaze previously is gone. 

"Well then, Elise," he begins warmly. "How would you like a story about a princess?" Her roseate eyes alight. 

"Like me?" she presses excitedly. He tilts his head at her, regarding her curiously for a second before turning his eyes out toward the sky. Odin stares out at the stars and smiles ruefully. 

"Maybe," he tells her softly, distantly. "This princess had suffered hardships more cruel and unforgiving than I hope you ever will. And she was a stoic princess, at times serious to the point of ridiculousness. But you both share a strong sense of self and drive, an unwavering loyalty, and a regal beauty." 

Somehow, Elise finds herself momentarily breathless. "Did you... _Did you love this princess?_ " she asks quietly. The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and she stares shamefully down at her lap when she feels his gaze on her. After an unbearably long silence, Odin exhales a laugh. "Forgive me; I spoke about her as if our story's heroine were real. And yet, even if this princess were to come alive and off the yellowed pages of her story, I think I could say that I wouldn't have loved her," he chuckles. His voice adopts a softer tone as he mutters a quiet, "At least, not in a way that is easily understood." The girl is jarred from her embarrassment at the breathy mutter, and looks up to see his silhouette backlit by the stars. She wonders if that last part was meant for her ears or not, but never gets to voice her thoughts as Odin adopts a smile and turns to her. It's like his melancholy was never there. 

"And so," he starts, "here we begin our grand tale into very recesses of legend, charting the voyage of one exalted princess and her 11 companions as they venture through time itself to end an apocalyptic war before it even begins! 

"It starts in a doomed time, one plagued with destruction and ruin, all life either tainted or taken by the evilest of evils, the fell dragon." 

Elise leans back on her palms and closes her eyes as Odin begins, letting his words ensconce her amidst some high fantasy about time travel and hidden identities, bittersweet reunions and grueling battles. She doesn't realize she has fallen asleep to dreams of herself as a warrior princess, a never-dulling blade in her hands and 10 heroes plus one blond swordsman at her side until someone urgently shakes her. Roseate eyes fly open. The hazel ones that meet them are set aflame by the slow-growing orange of sunrise, and they take her breath away. 

"Elise?" Odin asks, eyes wide in concern. 

"Uh? O-Odin?" she yawns blearily, rubbing at tired eyes. She is vaguely aware of his hands on her shoulders again, pleasantly warm and making her skin feel abuzz. 

"You almost fell off the edge nodding off!" he exclaims, words oddly simple. Some part of her sleepy mind is grateful for that fact. "Was... Was my story that boring?" he continues, biting at his lips sheepishly. He doesn't meet her eyes completely, and Elise feels her fatigue evanesce at the sad sight. 

" _No_ ," she responds immediately, shaking her head. She takes his face in either of her hands, forcing him to look at her; his eyes stay averted. "No, of course not, Odin! Don't you ever think that. I just lied about not being tired earlier," she insists vehemently. "But, I fell asleep dreaming that I was the princess. Your story was so amazing, I felt like I was right in the middle of it," she continues. "It was like _magic_." 

His eyes slowly lift up to meet hers, and the only way Elise can describe the breathtaking way he gazes at her is nothing short of _awestruck_. 

"I think... I think you're the first person to ever tell me that," he whispers, pressing his fingers against the back of her hands. She smiles dizzily at him. 

"Then I guess that makes me the first person to tell you the truth," she replies simply. He stares at her like she is some unearthly, mystical creature, and Elise feels strangely scrutinized under his reverent gaze. She is hyperaware of a racing in her chest and a sudden urge to hide her face and flee. It's like he's looking at her as much as he is looking _into_ her, and she's never felt so real. 

And then, he grins — brighter than the sun — and a spell Elise hadn't noticed they were caught under breaks. She pulls her hands away from his face and pushes herself up, standing on the edge of the tower wall. With her body turned toward the rising sun, the girl holds a hand out to her companion. 

"Odin, stand up," she urges. "If you close your eyes, it'll feel like you're flying!" 

He gives her a curious look, intrigued and confused and enamoured all at once; she can't tell if the racing in her chest is from adrenaline or his intense eyes on her. Odin takes her hand. He stands beside her, and the breeze tugs and rifles playfully through their hair. His is painted like sunrise, the very same reds, oranges, and carmines that stretch lazily out from the horizon toward them, and it's dazzling. 

"Do you... Do you want to fly?" Odin asks her timidly. "Because, well. I know a spell..." he trails off uncertainly. Elise studies his hand in hers for a moment, then looks up at him. There is an anxious energy to him, so much smaller and younger than the vessel that holds it. He is like a boy in the body of an adult, still a little nervous and unsure, and all Elise finds that she can do is grin — wildly and unabashedly. 

"Yes," she breathes without a moment's hesitation, squeezing the warm hand in hers. He can't bite back his exhilarated chuckle. 

"On three, will you jump with me?" 

Elise glances at the sunrise, then at him. "Who needs three?" she decides boldly, grabbing his other hand. 

He grins brilliantly as they jump, foreign words tumbling out past his upturned lips as they fall; wind begins to coalesce like arms around them and Elise can't help but laugh, heart threatening to jump clean out of her chest. 

When the maelstrom around them calms, they are floating in the middle of a sunrise-painted cloud, and Elise can't help the euphoric tears that tumble down her cheeks. 

Odin wraps fingers around her hands, steadying and dizzying at the same time. The sun is warm on her skin, but nothing registers as acutely as his palms pressed against her wrists, warmer and more reassuring than the sun's rays could ever be. 

**Author's Note:**

> That was so cheesy and lame forgive me please
> 
> ~~go read[fleet-footed and foolish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4745030/chapters/10845800) elise/odin is also in the later chapters kinda maybe barely i'm a dirty self promoter sorry~~


End file.
